March 28: Ashgabat
Upon arrival in Ashgabat, another friend-of-a-friend met me and helped me find a hostel, after insisting that I had no interest in dropping 50 bucks a night on a decrepit hotel (I have a strong distaste towards spending money on accommodations). I felt much better at the hostel, whose owner raises pigeons and bears a striking resemblance to Doc Brown in “Back to the Future”.
I quickly set off to explore Ashgabat, expecting the worst. Turkmenistan is well-known among Central Asian buffs for all the wrong reasons: the Soviet-era leader, Saparmurat Niyazov, stayed in power until his sudden death in 2006 and created a bizarre cult of personality. Among other things, he referred to himself as Turkmenbashi (“Leader of the Turkmen”), declared himself President for Life, wrote Rukhnama, “the book of the soul”, that is Turkmenbashi’s own account of his country’s history and culture and required reading for every citizen, and bulldozed any city or settlement that didn’t fit his vision of a perfect Turkmenistan, leaving thousands of people homeless. Turkmenistan also holds the prestige of being ranked one of the worst countries in the world for corruption, political freedom, and media freedom. When I asked about internet access, one local said that home connections have been cut off indefinitely “for repair”. It’s also advised to avoid talking about topics such as human rights with locals, as many places are bugged and they could be later arrested or fined.
Most of Ashgabat consists of monolithic white marble buildings, funded largely by the highly lucrative oil and gas industries. There are flags everywhere, including the second biggest in the world (100 x 47 m; the largest is found in Israel), apparently just in case anyone forgot for a moment that they were Turkmen. In the centre of the city at the end of the massive Independence Square is the horrendously tacky Arch of Neutrality, topped with a 12-m golden statue of Turkmenbashi that rotates with the sun (no over-compensation issues there!).
There are several sprawling parks and fountains throughout the city that should theoretically be a nice touch, but they are so over-the-top, notably devoid of any people, and consistently flanked by awful white marble monuments and golden statues of Turkmenbashi that I felt more like I was in a totalitarian Orwellian waterworld.
I soon found myself wondering how ordinary people live in such a state of overpowering oppression. I was admittedly glad that I had such a short amount of time to spend there on my transit visa, as I did not feel particularly comfortable (there were guards everywhere and I was constantly looking over my shoulder when taking photographs). It was safe in terms of personal security, but I just felt like I was suffocating.
Refusing to be completely put-off, I took in a Turkmen comedy play for $1 at the brand-new Magtymguly Theatre. It was a welcome artistic respite from the rest of the city but I later remembered that all performing arts are sanctioned by the government to ensure that they contain ‘only Turkmen’ influences and values. Ohhhh, Turkmenistan…
